


they can't believe I made you weak

by skitter_17



Series: maplekeene songfics [1]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Romance, Awkward Tension, Bad Communication, Friends With Benefits, Just talk to each other idiots, M/M, Secrets, Songfic, strange love by halsey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24961570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skitter_17/pseuds/skitter_17
Summary: Everyone's talking about Argo and Fitzroy's relationship except for Argo and Fitzroy.Songfic for Strange Love by Halsey w/ Maplekeene
Relationships: Argo Keene & Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Series: maplekeene songfics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1811428
Comments: 9
Kudos: 62





	they can't believe I made you weak

**Author's Note:**

> i've been converted to maplekeene
> 
> this takes place in a weird time void because it's after the most recent episodes (references to Calhain) but it's kind of a sitcom reset where everything's normal at the school so like idk
> 
> also this was only read through like once sorry if it's got mistakes

Strange Love

_Everybody wants to know  
If we fucked on the bathroom sink  
How your hands felt in my hair  
If we were high on amphetamines_

Argonaut Keene is pretty good at getting away with things.

He’s a rogue, a thief, a scoundrel. Deception is one of his best skills. He keeps secrets and he keeps them well. It’s never a problem. You never have to tell Argo ‘this is just between us’, because it’s assumed. Nobody finds out things about Argo that he doesn’t want them finding out. He’s secretive and mysterious, and it’s part of his charm, as well as part of his defense mechanism.

But most of his secrets don’t directly involve other people. Certainly not other people that everyone in the school has their eye on. He’s never before had a secret involving the kid who got promoted to villain from the sidekick line, the only person to ever have done so; the kid whose chaos magic seems to be unique in all of Nua; the kid who intimidated two entire herds of centaurs- not feeble or fearful beasts- and tore the truth out of the mouth of a powerful wizard as easily as he tore off his hand, which was, well, easily.

Argo’s behind a lot of that, sure. He did most of the hand-cutting, at least. But the point is, everyone has their eyes on Fitzroy Maplecourt, which doesn’t really help in keeping Argo’s secret secret.

“I heard,” Mimi says to Argo in blametaking class, “something about you and Fitzroy.”

Argo laughs. “You heard I’m his sidekick? That’s not exactly news, Mimi.”

Mimi doesn’t look at him, looking ahead at the board as they say, “well, no, that’s not what people are saying. I just want to know if it’s true.”

Argo scoffs playfully, as something deep in his heart recoils at the idea of people finding out. He’s secretive by nature, but it's not just him this involves, too. “I doubt it is, y’know? People like to just… make stuff up.”

“So it wasn’t you that my source heard moaning Fitzroy's name in the bathroom the other day?”

Many thoughts run through Argo’s head. One- he distinctly remembers Fitzroy doing most of the moaning. Two- ‘my source’, Mimi’s smart, because now Argo doesn’t know who’s the source of the rumour and doesn’t have enough insight to determine from Mimi’s words alone. Three- he had said that doing _anything_ in _any_ kind of public place was a bad idea, but Fitzroy…

He forces another little laugh. “T’my knowledge, it wasn’t. So Fitzroy’s taken a lover, then?”

He uses the same turn of phrase that Fitzroy tended to use, but he uses it with a little derision, knowing that Fitzroy’s never going to say those words about him.

Mimi looks disappointed that Argo won’t admit to it, but they don’t push it any further then that, responding dismissively. Argo’s not sure he’s convinced them.

It’s not just Mimi, though. Later that day, in their dorms, the Firbolg mentions something that might’ve been innocuous, if it was anyone but the Firbolg. “Argo,” he says, patting down his tangled hair, “how do you keep hair soft? Is it vorth it to have soft hair?”

“Ha,” Argo mutters, suspicious and trying to hide it, “why would ya ask me, Firby?”

The Firbolg doesn’t even really look at him. “Your hair is soft. I think you vould know. Do you?”

“You’ve never touched my hair, though, buddy.”

The Firbolg blinks at him then. Argo knows the struggle in his eyes; he realises he was supposed to do or say something other than the truth, and doesn’t know how to walk it back, so he just tells the truth. “Fitzroy said it vas. Vas I not supposed to know?”

“Well, it’s not a secret,” Argo mutters, hoping the Firbolg won’t put two and two together. Well, for anyone else it might be two and two, but for the Firbolg, it’s more like… algebra. Maybe he’d get it if he tried, but Argo can hope he won’t want to try.

The Firbolg nods. “I do not know vhy Fitzroy told me.”

Argo raises an eyebrow at the chance to get more information. “What did he say, exactly?”

“He vas just talking to me,” the Firbolg says unhelpfully. “He said, ‘Oh Firbolg, I have made a mess of things, but… Argo… did you know he vas so gentle? Did you know he vas so… um… his, uh, hair vas so soft?’ and then he said ‘I should go’ and he left.”

Argo nods slowly. “Wow. That’s weird, Firby, very weird.”

But it’s not so weird. Argo knows that Fitzroy is uncertain about everything, and he wishes it wasn’t so. Part of it’s because he doesn’t want to see Fitzroy in pain, but another part of it is a simple selfish fear that through wild magic, a temper tantrum or plain misunderstanding, Argo stands to lose something. Namely Fitzroy.

_And everybody wants to hear  
How we chainsmoked until three  
And how you laughed when you said my name  
And how you gripped my hips so mean_

Argo meets up with Jackal that night, his stomach in knots. They sit on the balcony where nobody can hear them, and Argo feels the wind cooling his face as he struggles to find an answer for the question he knows he’ll be asked.

Jackal asks it, almost word-for-word as Argo pictured. “So, Argo. How’s your mission going? Any news on Fitzroy?”

“I wish I didn’ hafta keep comin’ to ya with nothing,” Argo says with a lopsided grin, those knots unknotting and reknotting themselves quickly. Argo imagines they’re a trick knot, like his mother taught him to do, and pulls the ends taught until it undoes itself, steadying himself on the balcony as he does so.

Memories come, and Argo lets them hit him like waves, and pass over him.

After the first time it happened, they sat up and talked for hours. They looked out Fitzroy’s window and just talked. Argo didn’t spill anything, no, no secrets were shared; but almost everything innocent in the entire world there was to share, they did. They went to sleep at what must’ve been three in the morning. Argo let Fitzroy hold him until Fitzroy was fast asleep, or fast a-trance, and then he slid out of bed and snuck back into his own room. He told himself it was just so the Firbolg wouldn’t suspect anything, and he told himself that’s what he’d say if Fitzroy mentioned it. Argo was a good liar, but he couldn’t lie to himself, and he knew that was just the cover story, the justification. Fitzroy didn’t mention it, in fact, Fitzroy didn’t mention a single thing that had happened at all. 

The second time, it began when Argo brought it up. “Y’know, Fitz, we can’t keep dancing around each other like this,” he’d said, entering Fitzroy’s room while the Firbolg was asleep again. “’S taking a toll on both of us.”

“Argo, Argo, Argo,” Fitzroy had said, laughing slightly. It was a strange laugh that Argo remembered clearly. It was low, quiet, intending to sound like it wasn’t so serious, but it came out exactly the opposite. It was half nervous, and half aroused, both emotions hidden below the thin veneer of casualness. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I am fine. You may be plagued by something that I am not aware of, that I am not at all bothered by, but I am fine!”

“Fitz,” Argo says. He always took pleasure in being the only person on Nua allowed to call him that. “’Sokay. I shoulda said something earlier. You don’t have to pretend nothing happened, alright? Just… if you don’t wanna be like that-”

“Be like what, Argo? We are- I’m technically your boss, or something? We can’t do this. Can we? Do what? What? There’s nothing we’re doing.” Argo has to laugh at Fitzroy crossing his wires trying to deny everything. Fitzroy shakes his head, fixing his glasses. “Okay, it appears my clever ruse is undoing itself. Look, Argo- I should apologise for my unprofessional behaviour. You probably-”

Argo’s roguish speed allows him to be in front of Fitzroy, mere centimetres from his face, in record time. “Shut up, Fitz,” Argo mutters, able to read the subtext of Fitzroy’s rambling to hear what he really needed to hear: that Fitzroy wanted this. He’d been concerned for Argo, which was adorable, because Argo had been concerned for him.

Fitzroy swallows his nerves as Argo kisses him again. From there, neither can let go, hardly even to breathe; the gap that was there disappeared and neither wanted it to return. Argo doesn’t sneak out of bed that time- well, not until the morning, several hours before Fitzroy woke up.

The third time, combat practice had left them both a little hot and heavy, wrestling in close quarters with sharp breaths. Their reactions had been well hidden with a cantrip and some practiced deception. That’s the time they were almost certainly heard, when they ‘accidentally’ met in the least used bathrooms at the school directly after. Fitzroy had reached forward and grabbed Argo’s belt, pulling him towards him, and had been running his fingers through Argo’s hair, feeling the water-like falls, as smooth as human hair underwater. Then he’d pulled Argo into a stall for a little more privacy, and although Argo could’ve sworn nobody came in, he was… distracted. His perception skills might’ve been at a bit of a disadvantage.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Jackal. I really wish I had anythin’ to tell ya!” Argo says with a laugh. “But he’s just a normal guy, and I’m not any closer to ‘im than I was last time.”

_We wrote a story in the fog on the windows that night  
But the ending is the same every damn time, no, no, no  
We wrote a story in the fog on the windows that night  
But the ending is the same every damn time_

Every morning they wake up and act like they’re just villain and henchperson. Every time it’s over, it’s different for a while, and then it’s just the same.

Argo comes home from his meeting with Jackal. He gently cracks open Fitzroy’s door, and sees him lying on his bed, staring at the roof. It’s almost certainly his trance, and he’s almost certainly asleep, but Argo always feels a little awkward, wondering if maybe Fitzroy’s just pretending.

Argo climbed out of that bed when he thought Fitzroy was asleep mere hours ago. He considers crawling back into it again.

When he looks at the window, he can see marks, handprints and fingerprints dragged down the glass. It’s a good thing the curtains were closed. He figures that’s a good excuse to be in here, erasing evidence, as weak as the excuse is.

He creeps in, an expert at stealth, and creates enough water on the windowsill to make those marks disappear. The wet patch stands out against the fog still, but at least it doesn’t look like someone fucked up against the glass anymore.

Argo looks at the spot he vacated again and really, truly thinks about taking it back.

But he leaves, shutting the door behind him with a sunken heart.

_They think I'm insane, they think my lover is strange  
But I don't have to fucking tell them anything, anything_

People often don’t think Argo can hear them. His hearing is much better than people give it credit for; that, or they’re just not as stealthy as they think they are. A lot of heroes and villains see sidekicks and henchpeople and forget that they count as people, too, and will gossip within Argo’s earshot. It’s useful, if a bit of an annoying reminder that Argo isn’t seen as important by them. They’re mostly very, very wrong.

“…apparently Fitzroy and one of his henchpeople-”  
“The big guy?”  
“No, the handsome blue one.”  
“Oh, him! What about them?”  
“I’m told they’re like, a thing, now.”  
“…If that’s true, I feel sorry for the blue guy. Fitzroy is terrifying.”

“…Maplecourt’s completely uncontrolled. I don’t understand why you talk to him, girl! He’s going to lose it one day. Just you watch.”

“… you’d have to be insane to associate with someone who’s got _chaos magic._ ”

“…and I just feel sorry for them, you know? Fitzroy doesn’t treat his sidekicks right.”  
“What would you know about treating sidekicks right?”  
“More than Fitzroy does.”

And then, what’s worse than forgetting he exists, are the people who think they have a right to just ask him. Mimi was the first, but not the last. Some are more subtle in how they ask than others.

“So, uh. You single, Argo?”

“Is Fitzroy gay? Would you know?”

“Can I trade you, a secret for a secret? I’ll tell you who I have a crush on if you tell me yours!”

“Hey, uh, did you know that villains can get in trouble for having sex with their henchpeople? And heroes and sidekicks too, of course. Just an interesting thing I learned!”

Argo always laughs it off, and never once gives them the answer they want to hear, or indeed, any answer at all.

_And I'm gonna write it all down, and I'm gonna sing it on stage  
But I don't have to fucking tell you anything, anything_

“You came into my room last night, didn’t you, Argo?”

Argo stares at Fitzroy, confused, because he started off the night there. The Firbolg is right in front of them. Argo lies for his sake. “Uh, I… thought I heard something?”

“Hmm. Yes, well, I just thought it was strange that you should enter at two in the morning, just to clean my windows.”

The Firbolg doesn’t add to the conversation, but at least what’s going on goes over his head. “Yes, it is wery strange to clean vindows at two in the morning!”

“I thought you were asleep,” Argo ignores the Firbolg, directing his words to what Fitzroy is actually saying.

“I was in a trance, Argo. My eyes are still open. I can see every time you leave the room, it's just kinda... dreamy? I don't know. I just… why did you leave, and come back, and then leave again?”

“How many times did Argo enter your room? You interrupt this man’s sleep, Argo. This is a great shame.”

Argo doesn’t know how to answer the Firbolg, because he’s worried about the meaning behind Fitzroy's words. “I… didn’t know what you’d want,” Argo says, but it feels like an excuse. He’s answering _a_ question Fitzroy asked, but not the real one. “I’m sorry.”

“I am wery confused,” The Firbolg contributes.

Fitzroy fixes his glasses. “Okay, well, I suppose we will discuss this later, Argo.”

They don’t.

_That's the beauty of a secret  
You know you're supposed to keep it  
That's the beauty of a secret, oh oh oh  
That's the beauty of a secret  
You know you're supposed to keep it  
But I don't have to fucking tell you anything, anything_

That night, Argo goes into Fitzroy’s room again. They don’t talk. Not a single word is shared, not once; Fitzroy just pins Argo to the door the second it’s closed and presses their lips together with such ferocity that Argo can hardly breathe. Argo pushes him back, and for a moment Fitzroy stumbles before Argo catches him. Argo shoves him back onto the bed and glues their lips back together as quickly as possible; Fitzroy was originally less experienced than Argo expected him to be, but he’s beginning to know the shape of Argo’s lips by now, beginning to know what kissing him is like, beginning to grow familiar. And tonight, he hungers for it. Tonight, he doesn’t ask for answers; he just asks for Argo.

And Argo hates that word of what they’re doing is spreading. Part of it’s because he doesn’t want Fitzroy to be scared away. Part of it is because he simply doesn’t want anyone to butt in with their opinions. Part of it is because Argo’s never… dated anyone. He’s been here and there, slept in many a bed that wasn’t his own, but he never let himself get too attached.

He’s already attached to Fitzroy, and that’s the problem. Because it never used to hurt to get out of those other people’s beds, to sneak back to his own room. He felt a little guilty, maybe, but it was always what he wanted to do.

When Fitzroy’s in his trance, Argo gently turns him over so he can’t see the door, and he leaves.

But he doesn’t want to.

When he sees Jackal that night, Jackal asks, “are ya sure there isn’t anything you’ve learned?”, and Argo knows what he’s hinting at.

“Well, listen, Jackal,” Argo counters, digging his nails into his thigh so subtly even he doesn’t notice himself for a moment. “If I had learned a single thing about the wild magic, I’d tell ya. But his magic’s all ya really want to know about, right? I don’t need to tell ya anything else about him. I don’t know about his magic. I’ll tell ya the minute I learn anything.”

“I’ll just warn ya,” Jackal says after a minute of thought. “Speakin’ as a friend. Don’t go too deep and too far to get a bit of info, for ya own sake. A broken heart’s the last thing someone with chaos magic’s gonna need.”

Argo bites his lip so hard it bleeds. “I know,” is all he says to Jackal.

That’s another big reason he can’t get too close to Fitzroy: if Fitzroy finds out about the Unbroken Chain, he’ll think exactly what Jackal just thought, and the very last thing Argo wants on Nua is for Fitzroy’s heart to be broken. And there’s only two options: Fitzroy doesn’t get close and doesn’t find out, and gets over Argo; or Fitzroy thinks Argo did all of this just for information.

Argo would do anything to stop Fitzroy from feeling that betrayal.

_Everybody's waiting up to hear if I dare speak your name  
Put it deep beneath the track, like the hole you left in me  
And everybody wants to know 'bout how it felt to hear you scream  
They know you walk like you're a god, they can't believe I made you weak_

So Argo keeps the secret. And of course, it’s a two-way street. Fitzroy doesn’t tell anyone about Argo either, and he pretends nothing’s wrong. Argo at least expected Fitzroy to tell the Firbolg, but the Firbolg never says anything. As far as Argo knows, that one short exchange about Argo’s hair is all Fitzroy said.

And that hurts, as much as Argo knows it’s hypocritical to be hurt by that.

Argo never admits to anyone what’s happening with Fitzroy, because even if he wanted to he doesn’t know what to say.

“Y’know,” Argo says one night, during the only time they’re honest, which is in each other’s arms. They’re only kissing now, although Argo’s shirt’s already gone and his hands are playing up under the bottom of Fitzroy’s. “I think everyone’s jealous of me.”

Fitzroy laughs as though Argo’s joking. “Who wouldn’t be?”

Argo rolls his eyes. “I keep gettin’ asked, or implied, or joked about- people wanna know, you know. I ain’t tellin’ ‘em anything.”

“Well, what is there to say? It’s a private matter.” There’s an answer, and Argo’s not sure how he feels about it. “It’s none of their business who I choose to share my bed with, now is it? I’m not surprised, really. I’ve gotten quite popular recently, and everyone’s always gossiping about the popular kids!”

Argo ignores the nagging feeling that something is wrong with how Fitzroy says that. He knows that Fitzroy is talking himself up for the sake of his own confidence, and they both know neither of them are taking him at his word. That's not what the nagging feeling is. “Well, that’s why I ain’t telling anyone.” He spares Fitzroy’s ego and doesn’t tell him about how infamy is not the same as popularity. People feel sorry for Argo, and he feels sorry for himself, for a very different reason. “Well, I’m just surprised you’ve kept it a secret.”

“I just said, it’s none of their business, Argo. Why? Do you want me to tell people, like we’re some- some-“ Fitzroy’s voice freezes up, but only for a moment. “-young lovers, and not- and not- and not just- not just messing around?”

Argo kisses Fitzroy again to shut him up, because he needs him to be quiet. He can’t listen to Fitzroy say something so awful again, or he might break down.

Yeah, Argo feels sorry for himself. Not because he’s with Fitzroy, but because he’s not, and his heart feels heavy to remember that.

Fitzroy is feared. Nobody can believe that Argo’s ‘messing around’ with Fitzroy. But Argo can believe that just fine. What he can’t believe is the nagging words that tug at the back of his mind as he leaves that night, regretting it every moment. The thing he wants to whisper into Fitzroy’s ear before swiftly exiting.

He whispers it to the door instead, so quiet that even he can hardly hear the words. “God damnit, I think I love you, Fitzroy. I think I have for a very long time.”

_These days I can't seem to get along with anyone  
Get by with anyone  
These days I can't seem to make this right, well, is this fine  
Will it be alright?_

The next day, Fitzroy seems off. Even more off than he was the first time this happened, then he’s been since then. The Firbolg could tell the first time, but said nothing. This time, as the three of them are eating breakfast, he breaks the silence.

“Vat is wrong, Fitzroy?”

“Oh, nothing,” Fitzroy says around a crepe, “I’m fine! Why would I be anything but fine, fine, fine?”

“You never talk vith your mouth full,” The Firbolg comments. “But you are acting wery strange. You have not stopped staring at Argo’s lime!”

Argo had noticed too, but Fitzroy was kind of just staring at Argo in general. “I wasn’t,” Fitzroy snaps. He stands up abruptly, abandoning the rest of his crepe. “I’ll be back.”

He walks out of the room and doesn’t return.

It’s a weekend that day. The Firbolg goes to the forest, and Fitzroy’s gone gods know where, leaving Argo alone with very little to do. He doesn’t exactly have friends at this school, besides the Thundermen, and even then it often feels like he barely does. He’s alone, occupying himself with various tasks that leave him restless and reminded of his loneliness, until randomly, Fitzroy bursts in around lunchtime.

“Argo,” Fitzroy says, and Argo’s heart jumps, before deflating at, “where’s the Firbolg?”

“Not here, why?” Argo asks, putting down the broom he was holding. Compulsive cleaning was a sailor’s way to fill time.

Fitzroy points at Gary. “Cover your ears, Gary, I mean it.”

Gary does as he’s told, with some mumbling that Argo doesn’t hear because he’s too busy staring at Fitzroy. “Okay. Argonaut Keene, I am sick of this- this nonsense. It’s heck. Just stay in bed with me, alright? Kiss me sometimes when you’re not trying to get laid. Cuddle me, maybe, if- if you could, please? And I don’t know. I don’t know what this is meant to be, or what you want it to be, but I’m sick of it being this.”

Argo’s heart is beating so fast and hard he can feel it in his fingers, his stomach, his throat. “You, uh- you didn’t hear me last night, didya?”

Fitzroy’s face twists into utter terror. “What? No- what- what did you say? Did you break up with me?”

“Break up with you?” Argo steps closer. “You said- you said we were just messing around, Fitz.”

“Well you kept leaving! What kind of boyfriend keeps leaving?”

“Are we boyfriends or not?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out!”

Argo has to laugh at that. He takes one more step closer, just so he can put his hands on Fitzroy’s arms and hold him steady. Fitzroy visibly relaxes. “I dunno if we’re boyfriends or not,” Argo confesses. He knows he wants to be, but he can’t speak for Fitzroy. “That’s… truthfully, Fitz, that’s upta you. I just wanna know…”

“Yes, Argo?”

“Is this… fine? You and I? Do you want this?”

“Argo.” The glint in Fitzroy’s eye is unmistakable, the little quirk of his mouth. “Does anything I just said give the impression I don’t?”

Maybe Fitzroy wants what he thinks he's getting with Argo. But Fitzroy doesn't know everything. He hardly knows anything. Argo is keeping secrets from him, hiding things, and he's going to have to keep doing it. He doesn't want to keep secrets anymore- not from Fitzroy. Anyone but Fitzroy. But even if he didn't swear an oath, how could he tell a secret that would break Fitzroy's heart like that? Is there anything he could do to convince Fitzroy he wasn't just using him- in fact, the opposite, he was _more_ invested than he pretended to be?

Still, he's relieved to hear those words, even as the complications build up with them. His head says this is getting worse, but his heart overrules everything. “So we’re alright?”

“And here I was,” Fitzroy says, running his hands through Argo’s hair again, “afraid you were the one who was not alright. Yes, Argo.” He leans down and kisses him, slowly, softly, sweetly. “As long as you’re alright, I’m alright. I’m more than alright."

Is Argo alright? 

_I'm lying to you, and I love you,_ he thinks. Yet, in his typical fashion, he says nothing.

"I'm more than more than alright, Fitz."


End file.
